


Work-Life Balance

by Zephyrfox



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 007 Fest 2020, Don't copy to another site, Established James Bond/Alec Trevelyan, M/M, Oblivious Q, Original Character(s), Pining, Pre-Relationship, Q-Branch Match Making
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25070653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyrfox/pseuds/Zephyrfox
Summary: Q has a problem with his work-life balance. He doesn't have one. Fortunately, his branch - and his Double O's - have a plan to fix that.
Relationships: James Bond/Alec Trevelyan, James Bond/Q, James Bond/Q/Alec Trevelyan, Q/Alec Trevelyan
Comments: 27
Kudos: 117
Collections: 007 Fest Fancreations





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the 007 Fest 2020 Trans Visibility Day.

_ “We’re concerned about your work-life balance, Quartermaster,” _ Q mimicked angrily, muttering under his breath as he strode into his branch.  _ Break room or office? _ He hesitated. Tea might be just the thing, but he had a report to finish. Tea, then. He’d be in a better frame of mind for paperwork. He waved at Liz Earlywine, his administrative assistant, to catch her eye. When she looked up, he pointed to himself and then the break area. She nodded.  _ Good. _ There was nothing that needed his immediate attention, then. Otherwise she would have waved at him to wait.

In the break area, he began the familiar ritual of preparing tea. When he’d taken over Q-Branch, he’d made sure the break area would always be well-stocked with different varieties of tea. In this mood? He wanted something familiar and soothing. Hmmm. Decaf? No, it always seemed flavorless, despite the claims. He scanned the tins. Darjeeling, rooibos, chamomile, some green varieties. He spotted a tin half hidden behind a gunpowder green. He pulled it out. Green Mist. Yes, that would be suitable. 

Melody Deatherage went past, reminding him he needed to talk to her about taking the lead for a new project. “Deethridge,” he called, pronouncing her name correctly, but with his familiar internal sigh at the waste of a good gaming name.

She came over to him with an oddly determined expression.

“Melody—” 

“Michael, sir,” Mel — Michael interrupted quickly.

“Oh.” Q switched mental gears. “Of course. Do you want me to do a memo announcing the change? Or would you like to?”

“I’d prefer to let people know quietly, sir.”

Q nodded. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with, Michael. Erm… Is this for…” he let his voice trail off in a question.

Michael beamed at the use of his correct name. “Yes, it is.”

“Right. Well then, let me know if you’d like wider notification later. In the meantime, I can get someone from Equal Opportunity over here for a training session.” It had been almost a year since the last time, when Robert Gates had become Davina. It was a good time for the branch to have a refresher. 

“Was there anything else?” Q asked absently, his mind already making mental notes of what steps he’d need to set that into motion.

_ “You _ called  _ me _ over,” Michael reminded him.

“Oh. Yes. You’re right. You did good work on your last project, and I have a new one for you to lead. Same as before, you pick your own team. I’ll have Liz get with you to set up a time when we can go over the details.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. I’ll let her know my schedule.”

“Good. Oh — You’re being taken care of? Medical and any counseling you might need?”

Michael nodded. “Yes, everything is going well.”

“Good.”

They stared at each other for a moment, which was a familiar occurrence in Q-Branch, when participants in a conversation were left wondering whether the conversation was over. They probably  _ were _ done, right? He thought so, at least. Conversation rules could be fuzzy. “Then I’ll talk with you later. Come see me if you run into any difficulties.”

Looking faintly relieved, Michael nodded and headed off in the same direction he’d been going before Q called him over. 

Raised voices and laughing drew his attention to the far side of the branch. He narrowed his eyes. Naturally it was Bond and Trevelyan. The pair of them were chatting up one of his techs, and both of them were looking unfairly gorgeous. Q shook his head. He didn’t mind the idea of dating, but not for a meaningless one-off. Unfortunately, with his job, he had no time for more than that. So. No dating.

His tea finished steeping, and he took it back to his office, once more mulling over his earlier conversation with medical. He stopped beside Liz’s desk. “Do I have a good work-life balance?”

“No, sir,” her grey eyes glinted with amusement. “You have a work balance.”

“Cheeky,” he muttered, going into his office.

“Yes, sir!” Liz called, grinning after him.

Q sat at his desk, which happened to have line of sight to the tech that Bond and Trevelyan were still hovering around.  _ Damn it.  _ Deliberately turning away, he put his mug down on the blotter — where his eye caught a note he’d scrawled earlier:  _ talk to Melody re project.  _ Now, what had he been thinking about? Oh, right. He scratched out Melody and replaced it with Michael, and woke his computer to send a short email to Liz to ask her to get a meeting arranged. 

His eyes flickered to the desk across the room where Bond and Trevelyan stood. He sighed and pulled his attention back to where it should be. Medical were probably right. His work-life balance really was shite.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plotters meet to plot their plans. Their goal? To get the Quartermaster, Bond, and Trevelyan together - without revealing their intervention.

“...And then he asked me if he had a work life balance!” Liz paused, waiting for Eve’s reaction. It did not disappoint.

Eve leaned forward, eyes wide, as though she didn’t want to miss a syllable in the crowded, noisy pub. “What did you say?”

“I said he had a _work_ balance!” Liz smirked as Eve laughed, loud and hearty. The Quartermaster’s dedication to his work was well known.

“I see I got here at a good time,” a new voice interrupted their gaiety. 

Liz looked over to see Michael Deatherage had made his way through the crowd. She raised her glass at him in welcome.

“Michael!” Eve scooted over, patting the bench next to her. “Come sit, darling. Tell me about your day. How did everything go?”

“It’s about time you got here,” Liz said, pushing a glass of lager towards Michael. “But we need to talk about what we’re going to do about Q.”

“What about Q?” Michael asked, sipping his drink.

“All right,” Eve agreed, “Q first, then I want to hear about Michael’s day.”

Liz snorted at them. “You two are cute together.”

 _“Just_ friends, thank you,” Eve said primly. “We’ll get him hooked up with a date after we take care of Q.”

“Here, see? I told you we’d find some friends here.” Two new people thumped down at the table grinning at all three of them. “What’s going on?’

Liz recognized 002 and 009, Freya Lane and Spencer Cole, both newer Double O agents. They had both slid onto the bench beside her. “We were just… talking,” she said quickly. No need for them to know what they were talking about.

Cole and Lane looked at each other. “Mhmm,” Lane said, eyeing the three of them sceptically. “Are you sure you weren’t talking about the Quartermaster?”

“Why would we be talking about Q?” Eve settled back against the booth wall and took a sip of her drink. 

“We were just talking about getting me a date,” Michael said, leaning forward, one eyebrow raised in a dare. 

Liz held her breath, eyeing the newcomers.

Lane leaned forward and purred, “You should have no problems finding a date, darling. How about tomorrow night?”

Michael’s only reaction was to blink before he rallied and said, “Certainly. I’ll pick you up at your flat. Will seven suit you? After dinner we can go dancing.”

Lane’s eyes flicked over him. “I look forward to it.” She sat back with a pleased hum.

“Now that’s settled,” Cole said, “How do we get Q to date Bond and Trevelyan?” 

Liz looked at her companions. Michael was no good. He was sill staring at Lane. Eve quirked a smile at her and began talking.

“What makes you think we want to get the Quartermaster mixed up with those two?”

“It just makes sense. Bond and Trevelyan are haunting Q branch, making sure to run out every other Double O, so we haven’t a chance of poaching. Not that we want to, but there’s other interests there that we can’t get close to,” Cole said, and waved a hand between Lane and Michael. “Like these two.”

“Let’s say you’re right,” Eve said, leaning forward intently. “What do you have in mind?” 

Lane and Cole exchanged a triumphant grin that caused the little hairs on the back of Liz’s neck to stand straight out. This was bound to be very good, or very, very bad.

* * *

The next morning, Liz satin a conference room organizing papers for the meeting that was about to begin. Michael and Q would be arriving shortly to discuss the project that Q had in mind for him.

And it would be the perfect opportunity to put the Double O’s plan into motion.

She glanced nervously at the door, half expecting the Double O’s in question to come striding through, although they weren’t expected. Bond and Trevelyan didn’t even know what the other Double O’s had planned.

Michael stepped into the room instead and took one of the chairs. “Well?”

Liz shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything yet.”

He nodded. “It’s only a matter of time, I suppose.”

Hard on the heels of that statement, Q breezed into the room. “Michael, Liz. Thank you for coming. Now, Michael, have you had a chance to review the information about the project?”

 _Damn,_ Liz thought, listening to Michael launch into the thoughts he had for the new project. Q didn’t say anything about Bond or Trevelyan. Surely, he’d heard about — 

“—and I could get one of the Double O’s to give me some input on the design,” Michael said, pointing at something on the blueprints he was showing Q. 

“Oh, Liz, that reminds me —” Q turned towards her. “Please let everyone know that Bond and Trevelyan are planning a project for M, and might need some assistance.”

Liz put on a confused expression. “A… project, sir?”

“Yes, they’re on down time, restricted to MI6, and apparently they’ve annoyed M enough to give them something to take their minds off of mischief.” Q smirked, as though he enjoyed the thought of Bond and Trevelyan in a spot of trouble. "They're designing an obstacle course for the trainees."

“Of course.” Liz bent over her tablet, hiding a smile. _This was it…_ “But are you sure that you want one of the techs to volunteer? The last time Bond and Trevelyan got together with Mandy —”

Q sat up straight, his turning back to her with an expressionless face. “What do you mean?”

“Only that, well, perhaps if _you_ dealt with them, there would be less chances for, well, trouble?”

“Hmmm…” Q looked off into the distance, as if he were thinking through potential scenarios. “You might be right…”

Michael flashed a grin at Liz and nodded. She nodded back, barely able to contain her excitement. This might work!

* * *

Q went back to his office, still contemplating what Liz had said She was right, of course. Bond and Trevelyan were a recipe for mischief, and putting one of his techs into their path was sending them into the lion’s den. _He_ ought to be the one to go, if only to make sure the MI6 survived the assignment M had given them.

It would also give him a chance to get to know them better, which would hopefully help him get over his crush.

“Sir?” The intercom on his desk sounded. “Bond and Trevelyan are here, talking to Mandy again.”

Q pressed the button on the intercom, sternly telling himself he was _not_ jealous. “Thank you, Liz. I’ll take care of it.” 

He stood, grabbed his suitcoat from the back of his chair, and put it on as he went out the door of his office. He wanted to look more professional when he confronted the two Double O’s.

They were across the room, hovering around Mandy’s desk. Trevelyan was leaning close to her, saying something pleasant, and she looked entirely too pleased with herself. Q wanted to snarl, but that was an inappropriate reaction. He took a deep breath.

Q knew that Bond had spotted him when Bond nudged Trevelyan, who straightened and looked toward him. Good. At least he had their attention. “Why are you two bothering my tech?”

“Bothering? We’re not bothering,” Trevelyan said pleasantly, turning to Bond. “James, are we bothering anyone?”

“No, I don’t think so, Alec,” Bond said, casting a glance down at Mandy. “Are we bothering anyone, Amanda?”

She smiled up at them with a giggle. “You’re not bothering me, at least.”

“You see, Q? We’re not bothering anyone,” Trevelyan said with smug satisfaction.

Q wasn’t going to stand for it. “You are keeping Mandy from her work —” he ignored her look of sudden apprehension and her subsequent show of diligence in continuing whatever work she had “— and your presence is disruptive.”

“But Q —” Bond stepped close enough for Q to feel his warmth “— We’ve got a project from M that we need a bit of assistance with.”

Q snorted. “Proper oversight is more likely.”

Bond and Trevelyan exchanged a glance. Bond turned a charming smile on Q. “Are you volunteering?”

Ignoring the warning that began to sound at the back of his mind, Q raised his chin. “Yes, I am.”

“Excellent,” Trevelyan smirked. “You should do nicely.”

“Be at ours tonight at 6.” Bond’s smile was all teeth. “You can check our work then.”

The warning at the back of Q’s mind sounded louder as he watched the two saunter out of the branch. Had he put one over on them, or were they putting one over on him?

Either way, he’d find out that evening. Q walked back to his office, not aware that he was smiling. No matter how the evening went, it was bound to be interesting.

He was looking forward to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q joins James and Alec in their flat to discuss the plans for the Double O's project. They're friends, that's all. He wasn't expecting to be invited to dinner...

Q knocked on the door with anticipation. He was only there to check on Bond’s and Trevelyan’s work on their trainee obstacle course, but he’d been looking forward to this evening all day. Spending time with his two favorite Double O’s, without the stress of a high-risk mission, was something of a novelty. As Liz pointed out as he’d left the branch, Medical should be pleased at his attempt to have a work-life balance. 

Did his agents realize that he was trying to befriend them? The pair had insisted before that he call them by their first names, but he felt it was safer to maintain his distance and keep using their surnames. Friendship was the goal, yes, but he still needed to maintain some distance, after all. He smiled as the door opened immediately, revealing a casually dressed Bond ready to usher him into the flat. Bond must have been waiting for him. 

The flat was more lived in than he’d expected, an impression helped along by warmth and the scent of cooking. Everywhere he looked there were hints of the two men’s personalities. The floor was a rich brown wood, no doubt for ease of cleaning, with plush area rugs scattered here and there to add splashes of color. The sleek dove grey walls played host to some simply framed art and a few tall bookshelves that were crammed with books and knickknacks. The furniture was an eclectic mix of streamlined glass and metal juxtaposed with overstuffed comfort.

As he shrugged out of his raincoat, his eyes fell on the black t-shirt stretched to its breaking point over Bond’s chest and abs. He hurriedly averted his eyes as Bond took the coat to hang it on a hook next to the door, sternly telling himself he wasn’t there to ogle the man in front of his lover. 

As if his thought summoned the other agent, Trevelyan sauntered into the room, moving with predatory grace. Q suppressed a groan. Trevelyan wore a  _ loose  _ t-shirt at least, but it was in the same green as his eyes, which was totally unfair, and the worn blue jeans hugging his legs looked sinfully soft. Between the two tempting agents, Q would be hard pressed to keep his hands to himself that evening. Casting about for something innocuous to say, he went with the obvious. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“We didn’t dare not to,” Trevelyan teased, flashing him a broad grin. “You were quite clear that you intended to check over our work.” 

“Yes, well,” Q said, adjusting his glasses as an excuse to look away. “I’m sure you didn’t expect me to interrupt your dinner. Am I too early? Whatever it is smells delicious.”

“Don’t look at me,” Trevelyan said, nodding his head towards Bond. “That’s all James’ doing.”

Bond rolled his eyes. “That’s because Alec is no longer allowed to cook anything unless fire is involved.  _ Outside.” _

“Or liquid nitrogen,” Trevelyan added, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as if inviting Q to share in the unknown joke.

_ “What?” _ That sounded odd. And dangerous, particularly if Trevelyan was in any way involved. 

“Liquid nitrogen,” Bond explained. “We’ve tried a few restaurants that specialize in molecular gastronomy. One of the techniques is to use LN2 in preparing food.”

“I see.” Which wasn’t  _ exactly  _ true, but it did sound interesting. Freezing something to eat it? Q didn’t think they were simply talking about ice cream. He’d have to look that up when he got home.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Bond said, gesturing toward the dining area, “but I thought you’d like to eat before we got started.”

“James means that he thinks you don’t eat enough,” Trevelyan cut in, smirking.

Bond leveled a glare at his lover. “Q subsists on tea and biscuits. That’s no kind of diet for anyone.”

Q looked at them in surprise. They did want him to eat with them? And they were arguing about his crappy diet?  _ Why? _

Bond noticed his confusion and grimaced apologetically. “You do need to eat better, Q.”

“Yeah. So why don’t you go ahead and sit down,” Trevelyan pointed to a chair, and then raised a brow meaningfully at Bond. “I’ll bring in dinner.”

Deciding to puzzle out their strange behavior later, Q sat. He wasn’t going to turn down a home-cooked meal, particularly one that smelled as good as this one did. Trevelyan’s raised eyebrow was explained when Bond fiddled with his phone. A quiet instrumental began playing from a hidden speaker. Q didn’t recognize the piece, but it sounded almost familiar. He wanted to ask about the music, but Trevelyan brought in a steaming platter from the kitchen before he had the chance.

Bond opened a bottle of zinfandel to accompany their meal, which turned out to be baked chicken breasts with wild rice pilaf and brussels sprouts. By mutual unspoken agreement, they kept the conversation light as they ate. 

Q was astonished to find he was enjoying himself immensely. The food was excellent. The only sour note came when he asked about an odd bundle of cable ties, shoved haphazardly on one of the shelves between a sextant, which was surely a nod to Bond’s Royal Navy years, and a mug with the crest of the Royal Marines Commandos, which was most likely from Trevelyan's past. “Have you been doing some rewiring?”

Bond shot him a puzzled glance. “No, why do you ask?”

Q waved his fork towards the shelf. “Those cable ties. I usually see them for keeping computer cables in order.” He realized his mistake in asking when Bond exchanged an unreadable glance with Trevelyan. 

“They’re just souvenirs that Alec and I collect.” Bond’s voice had an edge to it that discouraged any further questions on the subject.

“I see.” Q looked from Bond to Trevelyan, who regarded him from behind an agent’s bland mask. Whatever the cable ties represented, it was a mystery he’d best leave alone for now. He carefully changed the subject, wary of stepping into another unexpected booby trap, and asked about Trevelyan’s last mission. He was reasonably sure there hadn’t been anything untoward involved with that one, at least. He was happy to see the slight tension leave both men as Trevelyan launched into an improbable tale involving an informant that needed to be ‘paid’ with an 18th century music box, a break-in at a private museum to obtain said music box, and a guard dog that had taken a fancy to him. Fortunately, the guard dog found a home with the informant. 

After that, rest of the meal went smoothly, and shortly Q found himself helping clear the  table while Bond brought out several large sheets of paper. 

Q watched, impressed in spite of himself, as Bond and Trevelyan plotted their obstacle course. Intriguingly,  _ Trevelyan _ was the one drawing the various obstacles, while Bond kept track of the types, distances, and timing. The two bickered good-naturedly about rope climbs, targets, balance beams, dummy bombs, and hurdles — and what powder they’d need and how much to create bombs going off for a suitable atmosphere.

“I didn’t know you were such an artist,” Q said absently, studying the obstacles coming to life on the paper. So far, he’d seen nothing that suggested possible safety issues with their calculations.

“He’s very good,” Bond said, fond pride filling his voice.

“I just scribble a bit,” Trevelyan said dismissively, eyes fixed on the paper with a pleased flush coloring his cheeks.

Bond scoffed and rose from the table, heading towards one of the bookshelves before stopping suddenly and looking back at Trevelyan in sudden concern. “Alec, is it all right for me to show him…?”

Q waited, eyes darting from one to the other. At this point, he was dying of curiosity. Trevelyan nodded, and a thrill passed through Q. A minute later he was flipping through a sketchbook that Bond handed him. It appeared to be about three quarters full of drawings. Perhaps it was Trevelyan’s current sketchbook? Some of the drawings were in plain pencil and some filled the page with vibrant color. Then he took a closer look at the sketches he was paging past, and they took his breath away. There were simple line drawings, possibly done in a hurry, yet making masterful use of negative space. Other drawings had obviously taken more time, and were intricately detailed. He wasn’t surprised to see Bond was Trevelyan’s favorite subject.

He paused at a drawing of Bond rising from the sea, looking like a god out of an ancient myth. It was the most detailed drawing he’d seen so far. Trevelyan had even included tiny drops of water clinging to Bond’s skin… Q licked his lips and quickly turned the page. Hopefully he’d gotten a good enough look that he could recreate the image in his head later. He glanced up, relieved to see that Bond and Trevelyan were paying more attention to their planning.

All thoughts of Bond flew out of his head after he’d turned a few more pages. He stopped, transfixed, by the figure depicted there. He recognized the subject and the background — but not the scene itself.

His own face stared out of the page at an angle. He’d never posed for anyone, and certainly never like this. Trevelyan had done an excellent job of depicting him in Q-branch, appearing to be taking control of a situation. Every detail was exact. He could feel the calm certainty that surrounded him — the Q in the drawing — just as it would in reality, when he needed to take charge. The only other drawing this detailed had been of Bond. Why had Trevelyan drawn  _ him _ this way?

He sucked in a breath as the realization hit. Love was in every line of this drawing, the same as in the drawing of Bond. His stomach lurched. Shakily, he closed the sketchbook and looked at the pair still conspiring at the table, heads together, as they worked on the details for their obstacles. He was glad they hadn’t been watching him look through the sketchbook. He took a breath and strove to keep his voice even. “Erm, may I use your bathroom?”

Bond glanced up, ice blue eyes pinning him for barely a second, and nodded towards the living room. “Through there, down the hall, first right.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” But the only response was an absent-minded wave of acknowledgement.

Q left the room, admitting to himself that he fled. He needed time to think.  _ What did all this mean?  _ Bond insisted on feeding him, and Trevelyan had drawn him every bit as lovingly as Bond. 

He ducked inside the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Had they figured out he was attracted to them, and this was their response? Did they  _ not _ know, and here was proof they were attracted to him as well? He removed his glasses, folded them carefully, and placed them on the counter. He looked at himself in the mirror, feeling strangely defenseless without his glasses on. He just wanted to be their friend! He had no intention of coming between them, or interfering in their relationship. He took a deep breath and turned on the tap to splash cool water over his face. He needed to calm down.

_ What did he know?  _ Bond and Trevelyan had been lovers for years, exclusive after their own fashion, barring the exigencies of their missions. He’d considered them both off limits. He reminded himself that he had a strict policy of never coming between a couple. Although, he  _ had _ heard rumours that Bond and Trevelyan weren’t averse to the occasional threesome. Was that what they wanted? Would he be interested if they offered? He stared at his dripping reflection as he considered the possibilities.  _ No.  _ Liz had teased him about his work-life balance. He didn’t have one. He’d hoped for friendship at least out of this. Not the possibility for a one-off, or even a whole weekend. 

Regret turned the memory of Bond’s cooking into ash in his mouth. If that had been an expression of interest in him, he needed to act as if he wasn’t interested — a task that would be all the more difficult since he would be lying to himself as well as to his agents. 

Q swallowed and looked at the door to the bathroom. He needed to go back out there.  _ He wasn’t ready. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Alec wonder what's gotten into Q when he returns to them. Liz Earlywine is disappointed in Q's report of his evening with the two Double O's, and later there's a meeting of conspirators.

“I want to recheck the timing through this section,” Alec said, tapping the proposed spot on the map for the flash-bangs. He slid his finger about an inch to the right, following the ridge of land as it angled away from the marked path. “We might have to move—”

He cut himself off as a flash of motion against the far wall caught his eye. He looked up in time to see Q step into the room from the hallway. Alec hid his frown. He’d seen Q looking that determined before, but never outside of Q-branch — or a difficult meeting. Something had changed in the time Q had been out of the room… but what? 

James had already shifted his attention from their map to their Quartermaster. He straightened, his eyes never leaving Q.

Alec finally had to nudge James until he looked away from Q. From the tiny v furrowing the blond brows over his lover’s ice blue eyes, Alec knew that James was as concerned as he was — but did James know what they should do? The almost imperceptible lift of James’ strong shoulders under his tight black t-shirt meant that they should wait and see.  Alec nodded, merely a slight dip of his chin, to show his agreement. 

“Come take a look at this, Q,” James called, his voice showing none of their concern as he waved the Quartermaster over. “We’re going to move the shock and awe portion to later in the course.”

Q nodded, still with that oddly determined expression as he joined them and leaned over the table. He studied the map, obviously settling in for a long evening of wrangling obstacles. “Show me what you’re thinking of moving.”

Alec exchanged another concerned glance with James over Q’s head.  A slight tilt of his lover’s head indicated James was still just as lost as he was. Alec took a deep breath and slowly let it out, releasing his tension.  It looked as though they were going to keep their evening focused on work.  He and James would have to be patient and let Q guide their interaction.

No matter — they were used to letting Q take control of their missions when things didn’t go as expected. This was no different.

* * *

“That didn’t go well,” James muttered as the door closed behind Q. He locked it and turned to Alec, his anger clashing with his feeling of helplessness, and he growled, “What the hell happened?”

Alec’s green eyes, full of concern, met his. “I don’t know. Everything took an odd turn after dinner. He was fine before that.”

James huffed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Maybe he realized what we wanted, and he wants nothing to do with us that way.”

“Of course he wants us,” Alec shot back instantly. “We’re adorable.” 

Naturally Alec would say that, James thought, his anger bleeding off into exasperation mixed with fondness. His lover was nothing but confident in their ability to attract whomever they wanted to their bed. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “We might be adorable, but Q obviously isn’t interested.”

Alec slung an arm around James’ waist and squeezed. “It should be all right,” he said resolutely, pressing a kiss to James’ temple. “We’ll just have to try again.”

James leaned into Alec’s embrace for a moment before pulling away. “Come on, let’s get some sleep. We’ll finish up the obstacle course tomorrow. It’s almost ready to show Mallory.” He headed for their bedroom, expecting Alec to follow. At the hallway, he realized Alec was still standing in the living room, staring thoughtfully at one of their bookcases. James stopped and looked back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“We could tell Q the truth about the cable ties,” Alec said absently, his attention wholly on the shelf the plastic bundle lay upon. “He was curious about them.”

Fury blazed through James.  _ No.  _ That was  _ theirs.  _

Alec turned to look at him, a lopsided smile confirming his lover knew he hated the idea. “Think about it. I know we have a certain reputation. Maybe that’s what Q objects to. We’d show that we trust him. That we don’t think of him as someone to use and throw away.”

James closed his eyes. Alec had a point. If that’s why Q didn’t want them… sharing something that deeply personal would be a sign of trust. He still hated the idea, though. He opened his eyes and held out his hand in invitation. He smiled when Alec took it. They were always — well, almost always — on the same wavelength.  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

Q entered his branch, pleased to see that the first shift was already there, hard at work. He had stopped off first to see M, giving his report on Bond and Trevelyan’s project. In his opinion, the obstacle course would be an excellent training tool.

“Well?” Liz Earlywine asked him as he approached her desk. She smiled up at him and handed him the physical mail that somehow always accumulated overnight. “How did it go last night?”

He took the stack of envelopes and thumbed through them absently. Nothing important. Why didn’t people just use email? So much more efficient.

“Q!” Liz voice prodded him.

“Hmmm? Oh.” He grimaced, remembered embarrassment filling him. “I got there early, just as they were having dinner. I must have gotten the time wrong. Fortunately they were kind enough to invite me to stay, and then we got to work on the plans after we ate. They’ve got an excellent set up for the obstacle course planned. It will be popular addition to agent training.”

Unaccountably, Liz looked disappointed. “Nothing happened?” she asked with a slight frown.

“Of course not, they were perfect gentlemen.” Q frowned, puzzled. What did she expect to have happened? Granted, Bond and Trevelyan had certain reputations for violence, but not unless there was a good reason. “Neither of them harmed a hair on my head.”

His heart, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. He shook his head and went into his office. He had a lot of work to do, and none of it involved pining after two Double O playboys who he suspected might want a fling.

He didn’t notice Liz shooting him a considering look before opening up the email program on her computer.

* * *

Liz got her drink from the bar and headed toward what had become their regular table at the pub. Eve was already there, drink in hand, looking as though she was ready to unwind from a long week as M’s executive assistant and unofficial — or was it official? — bodyguard. Liz sat next to her and slipped her heels off with a sigh of relief. 

Eve smirked at her. “If you get a half size larger and put in a cushion for the ball of your feet it softens the arch angle. But make sure the fit isn’t too loose.”

“Really?” Liz was skeptical, but she was willing to try anything at this point. No one in Q-branch cared about the way she dressed, but she loved the extra couple inches in height the heels gave her.

“Mmmhmm,” Eve said, taking a sip of her drink. “Silicone inserts help, too. Or you could try platform heels or a wedge.”

“Ill try that, thanks.” Liz grinned at Eve. She had been looking forward to this evening all week. Friday nights were a chance to relax with her friends — of course, they had a work related discussion to get through first. She took a sip of her drink, hiding a chuckle from Eve.  _ She  _ had a work-life balance that was just fine.

Ever since Q had told her a few days ago that nothing had happened with Bond and Trevelyan the previous evening, she and the others had thrown around ideas to get the exasperating trio together. Nothing seemed like it would work, though. She had been stuck watching as Q stayed at work later and later as he avoided going home alone.

Eve nudged her and nodded toward the bar. Freya and Michael threaded their way through the crowd. Normally Liz would have expected to see Spencer on their heels, but he had gone on a mission earlier that day. Liz wasn’t sure if Michael was dating only Freya, or if he was dating both the Double O’s. Not that it was any of her business, of course. Not like Q, with Bond and Trevelyan. The three of them were affecting all of MI6 in different ways. Q worked himself to the bone, while Bond and Trevelyan were even more terrifying than usual.

Liz shifted her chair over, making room for Freya and Michael to take the chair beside her. The move conveniently placed Eve and Freya on opposite sides of the group, with sightlines of the entire pub, and the back wall behind them. Eve might no longer be an agent, but she still had the instincts. Liz appreciated the security awareness — after all, it wouldn’t do for, oh, say, Bond and Trevelyan to wander in and see them without anyone in the group realizing it.

Which they just had.

Her stomach dropped and she slid down a bit in her seat. “Shit.”

* * *

“It’s fine,” Eve said calmly, watching as Bond and Trevelyan took up position at the bar. The two seemed to be chatting amiably as they waited to order their drinks. There was no reason to believe that either had any idea of what they were planning. She looked at her co-conspirators. “Shall we get started?”

“But what about—” Liz nodded towards the bar, causing Lane to hiss a warning about not being obvious.

“Oh, no…” Michael muttered under his breath. “They’ve seen us.”

Sure enough, Bond and Trevelyan sauntered towards their table through the Friday night crowd, each holding a glass of what appeared to be lager. Naturally, the civilians surrounding the bar gave way before them, instinctively recognizing that predators walked among them.

“Well, well, well, James, look who we have here,” Trevelyan said jovially as the two approached the table.

Bond’s ice blue eyes swept the conspirators seated around the table, pausing at Lane and Michael, sweeping over Liz, and landed squarely on Eve. “They’re having a party.”

“And they didn’t even invite us. James, I’m hurt.” Trevelyan set his glass on the table and took the chair opposite Liz, his green eyes bright with his characteristic mischief. 

“Maybe our invitations got lost in the mail,” Bond said, his smirk suggesting that perhaps this meeting wasn’t quite as unplanned as it might seem. He sat next to Trevelyan and stared straight at Eve.

Lane kept quiet, watching the other two Double O’s. Assessing. Eve didn’t expect her to do anything to draw Bond’s or Trevelyan’s attention until they knew what the senior Double O’s wanted. She just hoped Michael and Liz kept equally quiet. The evening stretched out in front of her, a myriad possibilities fracturing off at each decision point. 

“No party,” Eve said, mustering a smile from somewhere. With any luck this encounter was just what it seemed. Coworkers running into each other at the local pub. 

Lane leaned forward, drawing Trevelyan’s attention — but not Bond’s. “Just a night out with friends. Just like you two. Well, Michael and I are on a date—”

Bond shifted to slouch in his chair, his icy eyes boring into Eve’s. “Just a happy coincidence, Alec.”

“Freya and Michael are on a date,” Trevelyan repeated with a lazy smile. “We should toast the happy couple, James.” 

“Hm.” Bond put his glass on the table with a  _ click  _ and leaned forward. He turned away from Eve to look Lane and Michael over. He focused intensely on them for a moment that stretched longer than it should before he relaxed, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Of course, Alec, you’re right.”

Eve studied Bond and Trevelyan. What were they up to? They seemed to be enjoying themselves, but were still projecting an air of danger. The mixed signals grated on her nerves. On the other side of Liz, Michael and Lane whispered together. Something about heading out early? A sensible plan — she definitely approved. They could regroup later. She nudged Liz and caught Lane’s eyes as she stood. “Why don’t we—” 

Bond stuck out his arm in warning and pinned her with his glare. “Not so fast.”

Trevelyan sat up straight, his face losing its affable grin as it turned into an unreadable mask. “We’ve heard what you’re planning. No.”

“What?” Eve sank back onto her seat. Of course Trevelyan wasn’t referring to their plans after the pub. But there was no way that either of them could know about their plans to get the two of them together with Q, unless… she shot a glance at Liz and Michael. They didn’t have agent training. Could they have let something slip? Two pairs of puzzled eyes looked back at her, but Lane met her eyes with a grim expression, as if she had had the same realization.

Time for some damage control. Eve looked back at Bond and Trevelyan. “All right. Yes. We were doing some planning. But you have to admit, you two are becoming impossible to deal with.”

“And Q needs to take a break,” Liz cut in, raising her chin. 

Lane shifted subtly to her left and pushed away from the table. Giving herself room to maneuver or just to keep a wary watch on Bond and Trevelyan, Eve thought.

Trevelyan merely shot a glance at her then turned dismissively to Eve. Bond ignored Lane, just as before.

Eve closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping none of that would set either Bond or Trevelyan off. Damn mouthy civilians and impulsive young agents. 

“Stop it, all of you.”

Michael’s firm voice drew stunned stares from each of the rest of them. Even Bond and Trevelyan, Eve noticed, impressed despite herself. Maybe he and Lane made a good match after all.

He kept eye contact with Bond and Trevelyan, not looking away for an instant. “We want the Quartermaster to be happy.”

“That’s right,” Lane added in support. Her shoulder moved only a careful fraction as she reached for Michael’s hand. Nothing to indicate she was going for a hidden weapon.

Bond looked at Trevelyan, and they communicated something without speaking. Bond sighed and waved irritably at Trevelyan.

_ What was that about?  _ Eve pushed her curiosity away. The immediate crisis might be over, but she needed to stay alert.

“Look,” Bond said, leaning forward and looking first at Lane, then at Eve. “We know the Quartermaster is working too hard. We know everyone thinks we’re the solution — and we’d like to be. But you can’t just… whistle up feelings.”

Eve felt her jaw drop open in shock. Was  _ James Bond  _ actually talking about his  _ feelings?  _ Trevelyan muttered something cutting and Russian under his breath. Eve knew exactly what he’d said, but decided to let it go and pretended she hadn’t a clue.

“So, what? You’re going to just sit there and do  _ nothing?”  _ Liz slapped her palm on the table, causing everyone to turn to her in shock at her outburst. “When you  _ know  _ that Q is interested in you both?”

“We’ve given Q opportunities. We won’t coerce him,” Bond said flatly. “His choice.”

“But…” Liz protested, looking at Eve for assistance.

Unfortunately… “No, he’s right,” Eve said reluctantly. She wanted to see the Quartermaster happy and the two Double O’s less… hair-trigger. But all three of them had to be willing.

“Look,” Bond said, calmly. “Next week we’ll be breaking ground for the obstacle course at Allenby House. We’ll have another chance to talk to Q. We’re planning—” he sent a smirk towards Trevelyan. “Something a bit more creative than we’ve tried so far.”

“I still say I’m right,” Trevelyan muttered almost petulantly.

“We’ll see,” Bond said in an aside to his partner. Then he focused back on Eve. “We’ve got it handled.”

She studied the two of them. They did seem to have something planned. Maybe it  _ would  _ work… She nodded. “All right, we’ll see how you make out.”

Bond quirked a smile at her and stood, followed by Trevelyan and they slipped away through the crowd.

Beside her, Liz heaved a sigh of relief and Michael leaned forward to rest his head on his folded arms. 

Lane met Eve’s eyes with a wry smile. “I think we need another round.”


End file.
